


Doctoring the Doctor

by TrekTraveler



Series: Legend of the Light Bringer [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26198422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekTraveler/pseuds/TrekTraveler
Summary: Alyssandra Barrett was a smart, kind, adventurous young woman who didn't shy away from trouble. When the Doctor was injured during a trip to an ancient alien temple it would be up to Lyssa to save him. And so she would, with a little help from the TARDIS.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Legend of the Light Bringer [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902547
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

“Doctor, are you sure you know where you’re going?” Alyssandra asked as she trudged along behind the lanky Time Lord.

The Doctor batted low hanging branches and undergrowth out of the path as his trainers sank an inch into the muddy trail. “Absolutely! Just wait until you see the temple, its worth the effort, I promise!”

Lyssa adjusted the shoulder straps of her backpack. She had already stripped off her utilitarian jacket and flannel shirt, now even her tank top was sticking to her in the humidity. “And this is an Aztec temple, right?”

“It’s a Calamarane shrine,” he replied over his shoulder. “They traveled to Earth about 100 years before the Aztecs built their famous temples, taught them everything they knew. The Calamaranes are the original article!”

“Not a very well-maintained path for pilgrims,” Lyssa grumbled, swatting a huge flying bug out of her face.

“Well, we are about two centuries behind when this temple was in active use,” the Doctor explained. “It has yet to be rediscovered.”

“You mean its abandoned? Why not come when its in full glory? Full of worshipers and clerics and the like.”

“Well the Calamarane aren’t the most welcoming people in the universe.” The Doctor paused to grin at her over his shoulder, “They’d sacrifice the likes of you to the river gods and that would put quite a damper on the afternoon.”

“Why is it always me that these indigenous tribes try to sacrifice?” she asked, remembering the last trip they took to the Temple of the Algora Star Cluster. “You are the last Time Lord in the galaxy, surely that carries more weight with the gods than a I do.”

“Oh, I think you are underestimating yourself,” he replied with a wink. “You, my dear, are definitely a worthy sacrifice.”

Alyssandra smirked, “Thanks, I’ll add that to my resume.”

As they reached the top of the hill, the Doctor paused and pulled her up along side him. “There!” he pointed to the clearing at the bottom of the lush valley.

She craned her neck to see, “Beautiful.”

The Doctor beamed that mega-watt smile of his at her, “Allons-y!”

Another fifteen minutes of hiking produced the pair at the bottom the massive staircase leading to the stone temple. It was dripping with twisting vines and moss. Even the huge statues were covered by over-grown tree trunks and branches. It was like the forest was trying to claim it for itself. 

Lyssa dropped her backpack and rolled her shoulders to work the kinks out. She stood, hands on hips, studying the structure. “It’s glorious.”

“It’s good, isn’t it?” the Doctor agreed.

“It’ll do.”

He looked over and elbowed her in the ribs, inspiring a giggle from her. They grinned at each other and took off at a run, racing up the steps like kids. Laughing all the way. After all, running was part of the fun!

They spent the afternoon exploring the temple, pausing split a thermos of tea that Lyssa stowed in her pack. It was a rare, golden day filled with discovery and friendship. It was days like these that made life with the Doctor worth the monsters. 

As they were preparing to hike back to the TARDIS, Lyssa felt something sting her left arm. “Ouch!” she cried out, clamping a hand over her bicep.

The Doctor was at her side in an instant, “What’s wrong?”

She lifted her hand and saw a razor-thin line of blood dribbling down her arm, “I dunno. It felt like a bee sting.”

The Doctor frowned intently as he examined the injury, “Its not a sting, it looks like it’s from a dart.”

“What?!” 

Before the Doctor could answer, another dart buzzed past them, embedding itself in a tree behind them.

“Run!” he exclaimed, grabbing Lyssa’s hand and running as fast as he could through the trees.

“I thought you said this place was abandoned!” she shouted, sprinting along beside him.

“It is!” he returned, leaping over a downed tree trunk. “We tripped some sort of security system.”

Lyssa ducked just as another dart whizzed by her, “An ancient Calamarane booby trap?!”

“Yup! Clumsy us!”

“It’s still active after 200 years?!”

The Doctor laughed, “I told you they were good!”

She couldn’t help but laugh along with him. Good lord, the man is crazy! But in the best way. Is it any wonder that she had accepted his invitation to travel the stars? 

Alyssandra’s wandering thoughts cost her concentration. She tripped over a rock the size of a grapefruit, landing on her hands and knees in the mud. More darts shot over head, landing somewhere ahead of her. She quickly got up and resumed running, desperate to catch up to the Doctor. She was a good runner, but she lacked the Doctor’s height. He was likely only a few feet ahead of her, although she couldn’t see him. Several minutes later she found the Time Lord, face down in the brush, his great brown coat spread out around him like a cape.

“Doctor!” she cried kneeling by his side. She turned him over and found he was completely unconscious. Lyssa desperately ran her hands over him, looking for injury and found a handful of small barbs embedded in his right flank. 

“Please be alive, please be alive,” she breathed as she felt along his throat for a pulse, relieved when she found it strong. No amount of shaking or slapping his face would rouse him, he was out cold. The barbs were embedded so deeply that even her nimble fingers could not extract them. 

“This is not good,” Lyssa mumbled to herself. God knows what those darts were laced with, it must be bad if it took down someone as strong as the Doctor. With nightfall coming and no shelter, they couldn’t stay where they were. There was nothing for it, but to continue to the TARDIS and hope there was something on that magical ship that would heal him. And since the Doctor wasn’t going anywhere on his own steam, that meant she would have to carry him. Lyssa was stronger than her delicate looks would suggest. And she was determined. It might be tough, but so was she and the Doctor needed her. 

Resolved in her plan, Alyssandra adjusted her pack so that it was backwards, carrying it in front like a kangaroo pouch. With a great amount of effort, she maneuvered the Time Lord so he was on his side, arms stretched over his head. Kneeling beside him, she worked to get his limp body onto her back. It took forever. 

“You know, you could help me out just a bit,” she huffed as sweat broke out on her brow. “You weigh a metric ton!”

Her persistence won out in the end. She had the Doctor positioned on her back like a toddler getting a piggyback ride. His arms hung loose over her shoulders, and she grabbed on to his wrists to keep him from slipping down. In her hunched posture, she was indeed able to walk, albeit slowly. And so, she made her way back to the TARDIS with the Doctor on her back.


	2. How to Talk to a TARDIS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyssa manged to get the Doctor back to the TARDIS. But he was hurt and she was no doctor, luckily she wasn't alone. Help is always there for those who ask for it.

Three hours later Lyssa stumbled through the front door of the TARDIS. She was drenched in sweat and covered in mud and scratches. Every muscle ached in protest; even muscles she had not been previously aware of. To hell with Pilates, carrying the dead weight of a 900-year-old Time Lord was the real work out. 

Lyssa grunted with effort as she marched the final few steps up the metal ramp and deposited the Doctor in an undignified heap on the jump seat. Panting to catch her breath, she studied the Doctor. He still hadn’t regained consciousness, and although he didn’t seem any worse, he certainly wasn’t better. Any further assessment of his condition was beyond her at this point. She wasn’t a medic, her only medical background consisted of the first aid course she completed in order to serve as a lifeguard at the local pool during the summers. Alyssandra knew just enough to know she didn’t know nearly enough to help the Doctor. Not on her own anyway. 

She approached the control console and gently laid her hands on the lighted dashboard. Traveling with the Doctor was new to her, she had only spent six months aboard the wondrous ship. She had yet to take a proper exploitative tour. Most days with the Doctor were spent on some alien world, finding trouble and saving people. What little time she spent on the TARDIS was recuperative, sleeping and eating. 

“So, if you’re an alien, are you speaking English or am I just hearing English?”

The Doctor smiled and raised an eyebrow, “Oh Alyssandra Barrett, I knew I liked you, very clever! Yes, I am speaking English, had to learn it ages ago during my exile, but the TARDIS translates languages for us all the time. Written and spoken, it’s all part of the time traveler package.”

Lyssa tilted her head in curiosity, “Written and spoken, even when we’re not aboard? How is that possible unless…?”

“It’s a telepathic link, happens automatically.” The Doctor studied her reaction, remembering the time he told Rose about the link. She had been less than pleased. “Is that alright?”

“A telepathic link,” Lyssa repeated, breaking into a beaming smile. “Oh, how cool!”

Standing there, looking up at the shining time rotor, the lights blinking away, the gentle hum of the mysterious engines. The TARDIS was alive. Lyssa had known it from the start, felt it the moment she beheld that beautiful blue box, gateway to the universe. She could feel it now, just under the surface. It wasn’t just power pulsing through the console under her hands, it was life. 

“Okay TARDIS, I need your help. The Doctor got hurt and I need to help him, trouble is I have no idea how to do that.” Lyssa wet her lips nervously and looked around the room, hoping she was getting through. “Let’s approach this logically, this ship must have a Medbay. Where is it?”

She took a deep breath, “TARDIS, please show me the Medbay.” Getting no response, she tried again, “TARDIS, please show me a map of the ship.”

Still getting nothing, she looked at the Doctor. Maybe the link was only active when he was awake. What happened when he slept? Maybe he didn’t sleep. Lyssa berated herself for her utter lack of knowledge on her friend and vowed to put proper emergency protocols in place when this was all over. On a whim, she grabbed his hand, maybe the TARDIS needed a link through him? “TARDIS, please respond.”

When that didn’t work, she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to think. She thought about times when she stood in this very room with the Doctor. What had he done? Was there a control he used, a switch or a button? 

“So, what do you fancy today? Past or future?”

She was like a kid in a candy shop. Lyssa felt excitement building like fluttering butterflies in her stomach. “Future!”

The Doctor grinned in a combination of mischievousness and challenge and flipped the biggest toggle switch on the console.

“Why isn’t there a big, obvious button that would solve everything?” Lyssa wondered aloud. 

Then, just as she looked up, that big toggle switch lit up. She hurried over and gingerly brushed her fingers over the handle. It glowed brighter at her touch, “Okay, great! So, you can hear me…. Or my thoughts anyway. Telepathic ship. Right.”

Lyssa closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. Help. Doctor hurt. Need medicine. Need help. Please.

No response came this time. So, Lyssa tried another approach. Pictures not words. She closed her eyes again and tried to envision the Doctor at the temple. She saw him running ahead of her, then lying on the ground, then slumped in the jump seat. 

This time, the TARDIS made a noise, a groan of the engine, almost sad. No, not sad, Lyssa realized, worried. Encouraged with the response, she tried to think of a hospital room. Medical equipment, cots, first aid supplies. This time, one of the corridors leading out of the control room lit up. 

“Ha!” Alyssandra breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that she was no longer in this alone, “Telepathic ship. No problem.”

With great effort, she hoisted the unconscious Doctor out of the jump seat and headed down the path the TARDIS had lighted for her.

The clever ship had moved the rooms around so that the Medbay was the first door to the right. It was already open, outfitted with three beds, several cabinets, and a double bay sink. There was a tiny bathroom adjacent with a toilet and shower stall. Everything was a sterile white, but not stark or cold and it smelled slightly of disinfectant. Lyssa maneuvered the Doctor across the room and carefully laid him on the first bed. 

She worked quickly to remove the Doctor’s favorite coat. “I’ll never hear the end of it if I damage this,” she muttered. “I love that coat, Janis Joplin gave me that coat,” she mimicked the Doctor under her breath and the lights dimmed just a touch then went to full power. It was almost playful.

Alyssandra glanced up and smiled, the telepathy was coming easier now, “Ah, so he told you that story too. I suppose even Time Lords have their obsessions.”

The pinstripe suit jacket was next, although it was in rough shape. As was the shirt underneath. They were immediately tossed in the bin. Now that the Doctor’s torso was full exposed, she could see the damage. About a dozen tiny barbs were embedded in the skin between his hip and ribs. Each of them seemed to be covered in a sticky, black substance. Like tar or molasses. His pale, freckled skin was caked in dried blood and dirt.

A brief search of the cupboards produced gloves, tweezers, antiseptic and towels. Carefully, she removed each dart and dropped them into a small, metal tray. The Doctor never moved or showed any signs of feeling her poking and prodding. Probably more comfortable that way, she supposed although it still had her worried. She wished he would wake up. What if these darts were poisoned? How would she go about concocting an antidote? 

When the task was done, the debris and blood wiped away and the wounds were neatly dressed, Lyssa sat back and considered her options. She could leave him be and hope he would come out of it on his own. After all, the Doctor was an incredibly strong person. Lyssa had seen him withstand all sorts of things. She looked at him now, pale and not moving, tucked under a blanket on a hospital bed. No, leaving things of this nature to chance was never a good idea.

“What do I do?” she wondered aloud, sending a mental picture of the darts and the temple to the TARDIS. The ship only groaned slightly in return. Lyssa plopped down in a chair next to the Doctor’s bed, “You don’t know either, huh? I just wish I knew more about Time Lord physiology. I don’t even know if he has any allergies. I could give him penicillin for infection and end up sending him into anaphylactic shock!” 

She brushed the dark hair back from his forehead. “I wish I had a Doctor manual. How to Care for Your Time Lord, for Beginners.”

A second later, on the cupboards across the Medbay lit up in blue. Lyssa immediately crossed the room and opened the lighted cabinet door. Inside were ten books, neatly arranged, all of them on Time Lords. She bowed her head in gratitude, “Time Lord medical encyclopedias. You are the most brilliant ship in the universe!”

The TARDIS hummed happily in reply. Lyssa dug out her battered, over-sized glasses from her pack and began her research. She didn’t have terrible eyesight and used them more as a way to shield herself from the world when she was feeling shy and uncertain. After breaking them on three separate misadventures with the Doctor, she delegated them to reading only glasses. Each volume was dedicated to a different area of Time Lord medicine. Everything from reproduction to dietary needs. She was relieved when she quickly located the section on first aid. 

“Let’s see,” she murmured, skimming the pages. “Normal body temperature: 15 degrees Celsius… no wonder your hands are always colder than mine. Um…respiratory bypass system that allows them to go without oxygen for prolonged periods of time. Handy.”

Her gray-green eyes widened as she read the next sentence, “Time Lords have two hearts that beat at 170 beats per minute.” Stunned, she looked at the Doctor’s impassive face, “Two hearts. Oh my god.” 

Abandoning the book, she frantically searched through the pockets of the Doctor’s long, brown overcoat. Pulling out his stethoscope, she hurried to the Doctor’s side and pulled back the blanket. Listening carefully, her brow creased with worry. “Only one heart beating, that’s a problem.” It was then that she noticed the beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. She felt his face and although his temperature still wasn’t high enough to match her own, it was obviously elevated. 

God, he’s getting worse. She thought, trying to keep the panic from rising as she flipped through more books. “Come on, come on, there has to be something in here that will help. Give me a clue.” Her fingers trailed along each paragraph until she came to the section on regeneration. 

“Every Time Lord has the ability to regenerate. This process allows them to renew themselves, causing a complete physical and often psychological change. This is most often due to severe illness or injury, although Time Lords can initiate this process at will. This change is accompanied by a massive burst of Artron energy. See also: The Black Scrolls of Rassilon.” Alyssandra paused and reread the paragraph. So, when the Doctor is dying, he regenerates. That’s how he’s 900 years old. 

“And here I thought you were exaggerating about your age,” she murmured as she skimmed along, “A Time Lord who is severely injured without actually needing to regenerate to heal the damage will slip into a trance and devote all of his or her energy to healing.” 

Lyssa looked up from the book, her mind ticking through the information. “That’s got to be it. If he were dying, he would have regenerated already. I think. This is some sort of healing trance.” She laid her hand on the Doctor’s forehead, he was hotter still. A slick sheen of sweat covered his pallid skin. “Its not going well, from the look of it. How do I help you, Doctor? What do you need?”

Chewing anxiously on her bottom lip, Lyssa began opening more cupboards until she found one filled with glass vials. The medicine dispensary. Each vial was labeled, but in a strange circular language that the TARDIS seemed unable to translate. “I have no idea what I’m even looking for.” She shook her head in frustration and forced herself to remain calm. 

She closed her eyes and tried the TARDIS again, this time sending mental images from the book. Healing trance, fever, one heart beating. 

The TARDIS was quick to respond, lighting up one of the glass vials in her signature blue. Alyssandra grabbed it and the strange administering device that looked like a hot glue gun. 

“Thank god no needles, I’m not so great with them,” she admitted to the unconscious Time Lord. “Even if it is for you, not me.” Wasting no time, she pressed the device against the Doctor’s neck and it automatically dispensed a dose of medicine. 

Satisfied that the Doctor was at least on the right path, Alyssandra stepped into the tiny bathroom and evaluated her reflection in the mirror. She was a mess. Mud and leaves streaked across her face and stuck in her hair. She had several bruises and scratches from beating her way through branches and undergrowth. Her clothes were ruined with dirt and tears. And now that the Doctor was out of immediate danger, she noticed the bone-deep aches from the tip of her nose to the soles of her feet. 

The shower was blissfully hot, stocked with her favorite soap and shampoo. Lyssa spent a good amount of time just letting the water massage the soreness away. Absentmindedly, she ran her hand over her arm where the dart had grazed her. It stung and was tender to the touch. In all the fuss with the Doctor, she had completely forgotten about it. 

A quick mental request to the TARDIS was all it took. When she emerged from the shower, she found a tube of topical antiseptic, bandages, and a dose of human antibiotics along with a fresh change of clothes. 

“If I wasn’t already in love with you, I am now,” Lyssa said to the ship, who hummed happily in her mind. 

Yawning, she returned to her post at the Doctor’s bedside. A basin of water and washcloths sat at the ready to soothe the Doctor’s fevered brow. A pot of hot chai tea was waiting for her alongside the books. “Looks like my night is all planned out for me.”


	3. The Doctor Earns his Title

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor wakes up to a whole new mystery.

The Doctor woke up with a killer headache. He groaned as he opened his eyes, the familiar white ceiling of the TARDIS Medbay greeted him. “Ugh. I haven’t felt this bad since I stayed up all night at that ball in Versailles. Good thing I had that banana with me.”

Turning his head to the left, he saw Alyssandra asleep in a chair. Her chin propped up in her hand, glasses slipping off the end of her nose. The book lying open under her elbow suggested she’d fallen asleep while reading. He remembered everything then. The temple, the forest, the booby trap. The Doctor sat up slowly, his movements a bit stiff. Folding back the blanket, he saw a large gauze bandage taped over his flank. He touched it gingerly and found there was no pain. 

With his head growing clearer by the second, the Doctor found his hangover being replaced by questions. He reached over and brushed her pant leg, “Lyssa.”

She shifted slightly in the chair, causing her glasses to slip and clatter to the floor. Blinking she looked around and locked eyes with the Doctor. Instantly alert, she sat up, “Hey!” 

“Hi,” he returned.

“You’re awake! How do you feel? Are you okay?” She rapid-fired a barrage of questions. “Are you in pain? Can I bring you something? I’ve got tea, its probably cold by now but still…”

The Doctor could feel the panic building in her voice, he stopped her with a firm hand on her arm, “Lyssa, I’m alright. I’m fine.”

She studied him with anxious eyes, “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Oh,” she let out a deep breath. “Oh, thank god, I thought I’d done something wrong, given you the wrong medication or something. No Aspirin though, don’t worry. I know you’re allergic to that. I was worried that you’d been poisoned when you didn’t wake up. It was a healing trance, right? That was why you were out for so long?” 

The more she rattled on, the more confused he got. “Just how long was I out?”

Lyssa checked her watch, “Twenty-six hours.”

The Doctor’s eyebrows raised, “Twenty-six hours?!” Now he was really confused, “Wait a minute, how did I even get here?”

“Oh, I carried you.”

“You carried me?”

“Yes, obviously. You weren’t going to make it on your own.” Lyssa frowned at him then, “Are you sure you’re alright? You seem confused.”

“Of course, I’m confused!” the Doctor exclaimed. “You couldn’t have carried me, you’re half my size!”

“I am not half your size, you’re just taller than me,” Lyssa sniffed in indignation. “Besides, I’m stronger than I look. All I needed was determination and the proper application of physics. Lucky for you, I had both.”

The Doctor picked up the empty glass vial from the bedside table. She had given him the proper medicine alright. A unique combination drug, suitable only for Time Lords. No wonder he was feeling better, in fact even his headache was all but gone. He traced the circular Gallifreyan letters on the label. “How did you know what to give me?”

“I asked the TARDIS,” she replied. “It was a bit of trial and error at first, the communicating, but it’s easier now.”

As if to echo her support, the TARDIS hummed gently in the Doctor’s mind and sent a flicker of blue through the Medbay lights. His dark brown eyes widened and his mouth quirked, “I see.”

Alyssandra smiled hesitantly, “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Okay?” The Doctor looked from the vial to the stack of Time Lord encyclopedias to his companion. It was all clear to him now and he couldn’t have been more proud. He beamed at her then, “That’s brilliant! You’re brilliant!”

She grinned back, obviously pleased with herself. She took hold of the Doctor’s hand, “I’m really glad you’re not dead.”

“Me too.” He squeezed her hand in return. Concern flickered across his face. Her touch always felt warm to him, but her hand was like ice. “Your hand is cold.” 

Lyssa withdrew her hand, “I’m a bit cold, now that you mention it, probably from falling asleep in this chair. Maybe we could both use a fresh pot of tea.” As she stood, a wave of dizziness caught her. She closed her eyes and immediately sank back down. “Oh.”

The Doctor sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He cupped her cheek, finding it just as cold as her hand. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, trying to clear the swaying feeling. “Just a bit lightheaded. Probably would help if I ate something.”

The more he studied her, the more his concern grew. Lyssa was wearing a thermal tracksuit and thick socks, plus the temperature in the room was perfect. She shouldn’t be this cold. And her color was off, pale. Eyes glassy. Breathing shallow. “One of those darts hit you, didn’t it?”

“Um, yeah. Grazed my arm. Its fine though, I cleaned it up and the TARDIS gave me a round of antibiotics. No problem.” 

The Doctor pushed up the sleeve of her hoodie and peeled away the white bandage. The thin cut underneath was swollen and tinged dark purple. His mouth formed a grim line. He was on his feet in an instant, “Don’t move, stay right here!”

Lyssa tried to follow what the Doctor was doing as he bounded across the Medbay, throwing open cupboards, but her mind was growing fuzzy and it was hard to focus. He was moving about so fast; it made her head spin even more. Why was her scratch worse? She had done everything right. She stood, thinking she would help the Doctor in his search and instead collapsed in a boneless heap on the Medbay floor. The last thing she saw was the Doctor’s worried face swimming above her before she succumbed to the darkness at the edges of her vision. 

Alyssandra felt blissfully warm and weightless, as if she were floating, cocooned in a cloud. She registered no pain, no sense of time or place. It was heavenly. She wanted to stay forever, to sink deeper into the best sleep she had ever had. Unfortunately, her body and her bladder protested. It took a couple of tries, but she slowly opened her eyes and found that she was still in the Medbay. She was laying on one of the beds, completely enveloped in thick blankets. A nearly empty I.V. bag was steadily dripping fluids in through the cannula on her right hand. To her left was a strange machine that she didn’t recognize. It had two tubes coming out that were attached to her forearm and a lighted display that read out a series of changing numbers. 

She was pushing herself up on her elbows when the Doctor came striding into the room. Fresh blue pinstripe suit and freshly styled mad-scientist hair, he presented the dashing figure she had come to know. He was carrying a tray laden with silver domed lids and a teapot with cups. Just seeing him back to his old self, helped to settle the unease in her stomach. 

“Oi!” he exclaimed, setting down the tray. “No, no, no. No getting up for you, young lady.” He gently forced her to recline back on the bed. “You need to stay right where you are.”

“But Doctor,” she protested.

“No buts. You are going to stay right here until I get all that toxin worked out of your system,” the Doctor informed her with authority. He slipped on his black framed glasses and studied the numbers scrolling on the machine Lyssa was hooked up to. “Taking a bit longer than I’d like, but then it’s been nearly 34 hours since you were first exposed to it.”

Lyssa shifted uncomfortably on the bed, “Doctor, I just need to powder my nose.”

“This is no time for vanity,” he admonished her. “This is serious! Left untreated you could…”

“Doctor!” Lyssa cut him off and pointed to the door across the room. “Bathroom.”

Suddenly understanding her request, the Doctor jumped into action. “Ah yes! Of course, quite right! Hold on a tick.” He gently unhooked the tubes from her arms, drew back the blanket and leaned down. “Okay, put your arms around my neck.”

Lyssa was surprised at how much effort such a small action took. Her arms felt like rubber and shook slightly as she hooked them around the Time Lord’s neck. 

“Up we go,” he said lifting her into his arms.

“I feel a little silly being carried,” she admitted, blushing slightly.

“Nothing wrong with a little silliness now and then. I once spent an entire month with the chaps from Monty Python. I was the founding member of the Ministry of Silly Walks!” the Doctor told her with a wink. 

Lyssa shook her head and laughed softly. 

“Besides, I’m not going to let you end up on the floor again. You’ll undo all of my fine doctoring,” he added, holding her securely against his chest as he walked. 

He carefully set her down on top of the closed lid of the toilet. When she looked up at him expectantly, he frowned, “What?”

She gaped at him, “I don’t require an audience.”

Sighing, he turned his back.

“Doctor!”

He crossed his arms across his chest, “I am not leaving you alone. If you faint again, you could seriously hurt yourself.”

“I can’t do this with you in here.”

“Oh, come on, I’ve seen you in far more compromising positions than this,” he reminded her. “Remember that little trip to Tarren Four? You stripped all the way down to your skivvies!”

She shook her head, exasperated, “The atmosphere was so acidic it ate through my clothes!”

“Ate through the skivvies too, as I remember it,” he teased, clearly enjoying her embarrassment. 

“Doctor, please?”

She looked so utterly miserable he took pity. “Alright. I’ll give you five minutes, after that I’m coming in, skivvies or no. And if you feel dizzy at all, call out.”

He was still mumbling about outdated human modesty when he exited the tiny bathroom, shutting the door behind him. When she didn’t call him after the five minutes elapsed, he knocked on the door, “Alyssandra?”

Getting no reply, he opened the door, “Lyssa?” 

She was more or less right where he left her, although her pants were pulled up in a slightly askew way. She was struggling to get her hoodie zipped back up. Her hands were shaking violently, and her teeth were chattering. 

She looked up with pleading eyes, “Ccc… cold.”

The Doctor dropped to the balls of his feet in front of her, gently prying the ends of the zipper from her stiff, icy fingers, “I know, I know.” He zipped up her hoodie and framed her face with his hands, his kind eyes filled with sympathy. “Everything will be okay. I fix it, okay? I’ll fix it.”

Lyssa was shaking all over now, she felt as if ice were flowing through her veins. Unable to talk without chattering, she nodded.

The Doctor scooped her up and quickly put her back in bed. Next to the tray, sat two hot water bottles that hadn’t been there a minute ago. Taking the hint, he tucked them in by her feet and settled an extra blanket around her. 

“Oh, that’s glorious,” she said, wiggling her stocking feet against the bottles. The tremors slowly began to fade away.

“Courtesy of the TARDIS,” he said, handing her a cup of steaming tea. “You’ve made quite the impression; I haven’t seen her this enamored with someone in years.”

Lyssa sipped her tea, it turned out to be peppermint. One of her favorites. “The feeling is mutual. Best ship anywhere, any when.”

The Doctor reattached the I.V. with a fresh drip bag and hooked up the two tubes from the mystery machine. “There we are. I’d say another three hours.”

Lyssa watched him with curiosity, “What does that machine do?”

“It’s a blood scrubber,” he replied as he adjusted dials and checked the read out again. “A modern version of a dialysis machine, more or less. Its filtering out all that nasty Calamarane dart poison, helping your kidneys along.”

The Doctor sat down beside her again and smiled fondly, “You certainly put my title to the test today, Ms. Barrett.”

“I don’t understand,” she admitted, her brow furrowing. “Why wasn’t I affected right away like you were? Is it more toxic for Time Lords?”

“Oh no, as a matter of fact its far worse for humans. Deadly actually.” He gave her a pitying look, “You humans are a fragile lot.”

Lyssa rolled her eyes, “I don’t know why you put up with us.”

“Meh, you have your moments. I like your music and the food’s not bad,” he rattled off. “Anyway, even the tiniest amount would take down a human in no time flat, but not you!”

The Doctor pulled over a monitor screen that displayed a variety of medical information. Lyssa saw her name at the top and guessed this was the Doctor’s file on her. He pointed out the double helix at the bottom, “See here? You, my dear Alyssandra, have a genetic anomaly that reinforces your cellular structure.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means that your immune system is roughly forty to fifty times stronger than that of any other human. Incredible.” The Doctor looked at her in wonder. It was a look she had seen on his face many times, usually when they were exploring some alien culture. 

She held his gaze and felt her heart trip. He was looking at her as if she were a miracle. “So, am I not human then?”

“Of course, you’re human! An extra special one,” he said with a wink. “Your reinforced immune system makes you one tough cookie, but its not impervious. The toxin had to work extra hard to do you in, which is why the response was delayed. And why you survived.”

“I thought I had you to thank for that,” she replied, stifling a yawn behind her hand.

“More like the other way around,” he replied. “I’d still be flat on my face in that jungle if it wasn’t for you.”

“Couldn’t let that happen,” she murmured. She was just so warm and comfortable that she was finding it hard to keep her eyes open. “I’d be lost without… without my… Time Lord.”

A moment later she was completely asleep. The Doctor reached over and took the teacup from her slack fingers just as the lights in the Medbay dimmed to a soft glow. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. Oh yes, the TARDIS liked her very much. He couldn’t remember the last time she took a shine to one of his companions so quickly and so completely.

Placing the cup back on the tray, he turned his attention to the monitor that held Lyssa’s info file. After she collapsed, he ran several scans, which is how he stumbled upon her genetic anomaly. Which was amazing enough in itself. It was like winning the genetic lottery, a million to one shot. Then there was her uncanny ability to communicate with the TARDIS. It was true that his beloved ship had a telepathic link with all her passengers, but none of them had ever been able to simply talk to the TARDIS directly. No human anyway. Yet Alyssandra managed it quite efficiently. 

The Doctor studied the data scans again, just to be sure. There is was, clear as day. Heightened activity in the right para hippocampal gyrus. The part of the brain that controls all manner of psychic abilities. Everything from telepathy to empathic senses and her’s was lit up like a Christmas tree. He steepled his fingers as he studied the screen. It meant something of course, but what? She had never presented any psi abilities before, so why now? The Doctor loved a mystery and to find such a tantalizing one right under his nose was an unexpected treat. But any questions he had would have to wait, she was human after all and humans need sleep. Sleep and looking after and the Doctor was determined to do just that.

“Sleep well,” he whispered dropping a soft kiss on her forehead. He tip-toed out of the room, leaving his companion to her dreams under the watchful eye of the TARDIS.


End file.
